


Home is Where the Heart is

by RenderedReversed



Series: Yu Long [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sen to Chihiro no Kamikakushi | Spirited Away
Genre: AU - no war, Animagus Harry Potter, Carp Dragon!Harry, Crossover, Feel-good, Friendship, Gen, Home, Summer, Yu Long
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-17 00:07:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4645071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenderedReversed/pseuds/RenderedReversed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Out on one of his usual flights, Harry stumbles across a lost dragon named Kohaku. Harry being Harry, helps him find where home is—or, in this case, <i>who</i> home is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home is Where the Heart is

Harry loves all elements.

He loves the feeling of being submerged in water, of swimming up a current and watching bubbles float up to the surface. He loves the feeling of air rushing along his scales, of a tailwind propelling him forward, of flying high and looking down to the world.

He loves the warmth of fire, the crackle of flames. He loves the softness of the earth and the comfort of rest.

Harry loves all elements. He especially loves them as a dragon.

It’s summer time, so naturally he takes advantage of his free time to fly wherever it pleases him. His friends, familiar with his wanderlust habits, have already bid him farewell with plenty of comments to stay safe, eat well, and come back soon. He always does.

Right now, Harry thinks he’s somewhere in Japan—but he’s not too sure. Tom would definitely yell at him if he were here right now, Harry muses. His professor is a perfectionist like that; has to know everything that’s going on. Personally, Harry is completely fine with roaming around without a real direction, since he knows he can get home with some magic and generous intuition.

He looks down. The rolling grass hills stretch far and wide, a calming scenery of nature at rest. Harry eyes a river, the thing that called his attention in the first place, and makes to land.

There’s something familiar calling to him. It’s not quite the magic of his homeland, not quite the aura of his companions, but it isn’t malicious and that alone is enough to make Harry—naturally curious as he is—fly over for a look.

He settles. The river isn’t as wide as it could be, the water certainly not rushing rapids either, but it’s nice. It’s big enough for him to take a swim, and that’s all that really matters. Harry makes to dive in, but stops himself at the last second.

He’d seen something…something shining in the river.

He peers closer. His snout is close to the water’s surface now, and he can feel the cool spray with every ripple. In the water, he sees his own red and gold coloring mirrored back at him, and nothing more. It’s a bit disappointing, but nevertheless he pulls back. Odd. He could’ve _sworn_ —

And there it is again!

This time, Harry doesn’t hesitate. He dives into the waters, snake-like body twisting and curling into the river.

There, all Harry sees is blue.

“Who are you? What do you want?”

Pale blue scales—almost white. A mane of sea green. Horns the color of pale bronze.

Another dragon.

“I’m Harry,” he says, because that’s who he is and introducing himself is only polite. Hanging around with dangerous creatures—no thanks to Hagrid, _or_ Tom!—has significantly lessened the list of things that can surprise him. “Who are you?”

There is a still moment where all that dares to move is the water around them; a moment where the other dragon’s pale green eyes—so different than his own—narrow, searching, but then the moment is gone, and the dragon relaxes.

“Ha—Kohaku. My name is Kohaku.”

Harry grins, as much as a dragon _can,_ anyway. “So I really am in Japan! Nice!”

Kohaku blinks, and then unfurls his own body from its threatening coil. “Not exactly. Are you lost as well, then?”

“Lost?” Harry inclines his head, wriggling about out of habit. He’s used to exaggerating his body language for his friends to understand—something that originated from his time as a koi, _before_ the whole Dragon Gate business—and this certain motion is out of confusion. “Hm…”

He doesn’t know where he is, true. But does that mean he’s lost? He can go home whenever he wants. And, technically speaking, he isn’t _going_ anywhere specific. What if where he is, is exactly where he wants to be? The borderline existential question starts to make his head ache. _Things like this should be saved for Luna._

“I don’t think so,” Harry replies, settling on the truth, “but only because I’m not really going anywhere anyway.”

“No? Your river doesn’t need you?” Kohaku asks.

Harry blinks. “I don’t have a river,” he says slowly, “but I have a pond, if that counts. And kind of a lake—but that one isn’t really _mine_ , you know. It’s just—just part of my home.”

“ _Home_ …” the other dragon repeats. “A home other than a river, for a dragon? How strange…”

“Is it? I’ve never met another Eastern dragon. The other dragons I know have nests, high up in mountains or lying in caves. They don’t quite like water, really. I do, though. I like water, and air, and everything in between. What do you like, Kohaku? If dragons are supposed to have a river, is this not yours?”

“…No, it isn’t,” Kohaku says, somber. His sadness is palpable, to Harry, and the emotion is so overwhelming—like the tall waves of an ocean during a storm—that he can’t help but swim closer to brush their scales together in some form of comfort.

“What’s the matter?” Harry asks softly. He doesn’t like it when people are sad. _No one_ deserves to be sad.

Kohaku sighs. The breath leaves his snout in a gust of bubbles. As if instinctively, he follows Harry’s movement until they’re both leisurely swimming along with the river’s current. “Well, you see, a long time ago, a witch named Yubaba…”

Curiosity spiked at the word “witch”, Harry listens to his new friend’s story. It’s fascinating, really—a bath house? Names being _stolen_? How horrid! And a truly amazing power, at that. He imagines that, despite not liking Yubaba much, it would be interesting to visit the bath house—specifically with Tom. His professor could probably tell him all about the magical structure of such a thing, and all the strange magical creatures operating it.

Sootballs? A man with _six arms_? Spirits and harpies? A giant baby? How positively odd! Like out of a storybook, or one of Luna’s long winded metaphors—tales, maybe, since even Harry considers it difficult to tell whether Luna is serious or stirring up trouble.

And then Haku— _Kohaku_ tells him about a little girl no older than ten. Sen— _Chihiro_ ; her name was— _is_ Chihiro. They loved each other, surely, Harry thinks. He doesn’t know much about love on his own, but he’s seen enough of it around him to know it when he sees it.

Like how Remus looks at Tonks, or Mr. Weasley and Mrs. Weasley.

“And now I’m free,” Kohaku finishes. “But the Kohaku River is gone. It’s dried up, and a dragon without a river is…”

Harry thinks. “But I don’t have a river,” he says, “And I think I’m the same sort of dragon as you are. I’ve lived this way for a long time—I didn’t even know you _needed_ a river as a dragon. And maybe you don’t. Maybe all you need is a home—a place to protect.”

“Protect…?” the other dragon trails off. “Protect,” he repeats, firmer this time and more thoughtful.

“Yeah. That’s the nice thing about homes,” Harry continues, nodding enthusiastically. He thinks of his own home, and then of Hogwarts, and how they’re both equally important to him. “Homes are places you can stay and feel safe. At the same time, you make sure they’re safe by protecting them. It’s an equal relationship between you and your home—a place you can rest, a place you can fight for. Having a home is great! I didn’t always have one either, but now that I do, I don’t know what I would do without it!”

“But you’re not there…? At your home.”

Harry laughs good-naturedly. His smile is patient and understanding. “A home isn’t a prison,” he says. “A home is a place you can always come back to. You leave it to experience new things, to explore, to have fun and to learn, but you always come back. It’s not because you _have to_ , either. It’s because you _want to_. Someone very smart, a friend of mine, told me that ‘home is where the heart is.’ I think that’s true. After all, all my friends are home to me, and I’ll always come back to them, even though I leave for an adventure sometimes.”

Harry lets the sentiment echo between them for some time, preferring to lazily swim with the river and give his new friend some time to digest what he’d just told him. It isn’t exactly an easy thing to learn from being told, Harry knows. In fact, it took being surrounded with his closest, most dearest friends for him to understand.

He used to call the Dursley’s house his home, because there’d been nowhere else for him to go. But now he knows it’s okay to be homeless, it’s okay to search for a home, and it’s okay to _find one_ and make it your home without anyone else having a say in anything. Home is only home if it’s home to the heart, Harry believes firmly.

He thinks of Ron, and Hermione, and Neville and Luna. He thinks of Dumbledore, of his professors, of _Hogwarts_. He thinks of Tom and Nagini and quiet evenings next to the fire place, snoozing or reading a book. Eating watermelons. Traveling around in a fish bowl, splashing unsuspecting students.

Yes, home will always be home. And home is home _because of_ the people there.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“Is it alright…” Kohaku pauses, “is it alright for home to be a _person_ , not a place?”

“Yep! Definitely. It’s okay for your home to not stay in one place, too—because people move, you know?”

“I think I know who my home is, then.”

Harry grins. “Then we should find her, right?”

“But I don’t know where she is! We’re not…this isn’t _exactly_ Japan, Harry. This is the Spirit World,” Kohaku insists, “And she’s in the _human world_. How will I ever _find her_? I don’t even know how much time has passed. What if—”

“I’m sure she’s waiting for you. You’re _her_ home too, right?”

“I—I’m not sure.”

 Harry huffs. “Well, you’ll just have to find out! Here, I’ll give you a charm. Just think about her, and close your eyes…”

Kohaku does. Harry mirrors the action, shutting his eyes and focusing on the feel of the river. One thing he’s found out is that his dragon friend is very adept at reflecting his emotions and thoughts across the water—that’s what originally called to him, all the way up in the air. He depends on this now, trying to connect with Kohaku’s thoughts and memories.

He feels the rush of water. Sees a shoe, falling down, down, down into the water. A little girl, who grows up into an older but no less little girl, with a good smile and a good heart. She’s strong, despite her lanky, frail build; worthy of admiration and even worthier of affection and a fulfilling life.

Harry’s claws scratch against the rocky bed of the river. They close around a smooth, round pebble, and this is what he enchants with his magic. _Point me_ , he thinks, focusing on Kohaku’s memories, _Ogino Chihiro._

“This will take you where you need to go,” Harry says. “No—it’ll take you _home_.”

“Harry… _thank you_. Will we ever meet again?”

Harry smiles, as much as a dragon _can_ , anyway. “Of course! We’re friends, after all, right?”

They part ways, Kohaku following the river and Harry flying to the air. He’s a bit tired now, the adventure catching up with him and his talk with Kohaku making him crave his own home. Well, who is he to do otherwise?

Harry curls, thinking of Hogwarts and friends and _home_.

And then he’s gone, with little more than a loud _crack_ left to fade into the wind.

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah I've been a co-author of this series for a REAAAALLY long while without having added a work to it, which has made me feel really bad.
> 
> So here's a short little oneshot for it *_*.
> 
> (I'm a big fan of Spirited Away and I think that fandom needs more love; + my Chihiro/Haku shipping is REAL. My all time favorite fic for those two is the drabble series (YES, a DRABBLE series) by Forthrightly called Guardian. You can find it on FFnet.)
> 
> I know that was a shameless plug but seriously that drabble series is written in LIQUID GOLD stamped with an official FEELS stamp enclosed in the ultimate shipping envelope. You can't get much more perfect than that.


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